


an emergency medicine specialist in a nutshell

by ariescaldo



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Fluff, Medical Professionals, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariescaldo/pseuds/ariescaldo
Summary: An alternate universe wherein waking up on a hospital bed isn't the most ideal way to spend the morning, but after seeing your doctor, maybe it isn't that bad.Or—Yoon Jeonghan as a doctor in a nutshell.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Yoon Jeonghan/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	an emergency medicine specialist in a nutshell

**Author's Note:**

> hey, hey, hey! decided to revive this almost-orphaned account and here we are! this is a product of my love for medical dramas (which is specifically ‘romantic doctor, teacher kim’ only since i just started indulging with motion-pictures rather than typewritten words on a book or a screen. anyway! i did this just for fun (and for practice in terms of narrating, too) so here’s a disclaimer that this is an inaccurate view of the medical state of the state (yes, repetition is somehow admirable) and this is just a work of fiction, meaning, it’s just my mind and not the world. that’s it (albeit speaking a lot more than what’s required), xoxo!

“Sometimes I question myself as to why I became an emergency medicine specialist in the first place. And this is one of those times,” Dr. Yoon says as his worn-out sneakers which are ironically newly washed stepped on the just-as-worn-out tiles of the emergency room, exasperation hidden behind the complaint. The workload seems to get the best of him, as it always does. “I could’ve taken my sweet good time preparing breakfast while listening to IU or something.”

“As if you prepare breakfast in the first place,” Nurse Kim starkly retorts without so much thought, eyes glued on a patient’s chart with too much adhesion than necessary. The phone suddenly rings and he, being the attentive nurse that he is (as he should be), immediately answers with a refined statement, only to have his face to completely crumble because some drunkard seems to have the hospital’s number on speed dial. “Maybe your almost nonexistent romantic ideals and morale miraculously won over your strangely high adenosine levels.”

“You think?” Dr. Yoon presses without obvious effort, face void of enthusiasm. “Then why did I even let them win?” He whines dramatically, a skill of exaggeration showing up at times like this.

Nurse Kim just softly chuckles, which seems to brighten up the almost empty emergency room. _Weird,_ Dr. Yoon thinks as he notices just now. _It was never this quiet here._

“If you weren’t a doctor, maybe you could pass to be an actor. So much for being a drama queen, or should I say, _king_ ,” the nurse drones uncharacteristically, unlike his sprightly approach just a while ago. Maybe his biological battery’s been running out of energy, too, because of his exposure to Dr. Yoon’s contagious state of puny retardation. “But now that you think about it, surviving the battlefield known as med school and finishing your residency is immensely amazing. Given that kind of attitude, it’s a wonder how you pushed through the tough part of being a doctor, if not the whole process is the tough part itself.”

“You think I’m _immensely_ amazing?” Dr. Yoon cheekily asks.

“You must have selective hearing,” Nurse Kim retaliates, faux-scoffing.

“Where’s Wonwoo, by the way?” Dr. Yoon inquires as his eyes roam the room.

“That’s Dr. Jeon for you,” Nurse Kim reprimands him feebly, as he fiddles with the medication in the cabinet. “Anyway, he’s down there, in the staff room, probably catching some fishes in his sleep. Dr. Jeon’s been on duty for three days straight already,” Nurse Kim winces. “That must be tough.”

“Yikes. To him and his workaholic ass,” Dr. Yoon notes as he slumps in a hospital bed, blatantly ignoring the first statement. “I’m tired of seeing you pine over him, honestly. How about you finally confess, Mingyu? Your feelings are actually _not_ subtle.”

“I told you several times already to call me Nurse Kim,” the nurse corrects Dr. Yoon who just waves his hand dismissively. “And it’s not _easy_.”

“It’s not supposed to be easy,” the doctor counters not-energetically, finally closing his eyes. He’s been hoping to do that the moment he set foot in the hospital. “So, am I going to be alone for the rest of the morning?”

Nurse Kim lets out a _‘pft’_ and turns to Dr. Yoon. “If you are to be, you won’t survive. Or barely survive.”

“Debatable.”

“Dr. Hong just went out for coffee, and Dr. Choi will probably show up like the mushroom that he is.”

A grunt-chuckle is the only response that Dr. Yoon manages, sitting upright from his lying position. He wants some coffee, too, but the timing of this universe sucks since his comrade is already out there getting some adenosine receptors that prevent the gush of un-wakefulness, and he’s not that keen to follow.

“By the way, the room looks empty. It’s weird to see that this monster of a place isn’t bustling with people yet,” Dr. Yoon comments as he fixes the creases on his coat.

“It has been the most peaceful morning I had for a long time,” Nurse Kim admittedly admits as he set down his pen after scribbling God-knows-what. “But, please, let’s turn a blind eye over this. I don’t want to jinx—“

Then the phone thought that it’s its cue to ring hysterically.

“—it,” Nurse Kim finishes with a sigh that sounds like his soul decided to leave his body. He fishes the phone in an urgent manner, with Dr. Yoon waiting on the edge of his seat. 

“We’re expecting two patients with car accident injuries in three minutes,” Nurse Kim reports after a few, as everyone scrambles to their feet. 

“Nurse Lee,” Dr. Yoon calls the youngest nurse in the emergency room that he seems to have taken a liking to. “Page Dr. Hong and Dr. Choi immediately,” he commands, tone surprisingly calm, a product of a bunch of years in training to be the doctor he is now. But there was one thing that he overlooked earlier this morning: he should’ve known that there’s a high probability that the moon will never be blue as the mornings in the emergency room will never be peaceful.

“No need to call us,” a voice sounded confident and very present. Dr. Yoon turns towards the newcomer, only to see the cheeky smile planted on his face, making the said person’s dimple more prominent. Beside him was Dr. Hong, who, Dr. Yoon thinks with jealousy, had his morale boosted through caffeine. 

“How are their conditions?” Dr. Hong asks. 

“The two of them got injured in a car accident. The driver died on the spot,” Nurse Kim repeats, the firmness in his voice telling everyone that focus is the most important thing right now since lives are at stake. “One person has his right leg nearly amputated. The one in the passenger seat doesn’t have his seatbelt fastened so he has blunt abdominal trauma.”¹

“Dr. Choi and Nurse Lee,” Dr. Yoon calls. “You can handle the amputation. Nurse Kim and Dr. Hong will treat the patient with abdominal trauma with me. Get ready!” Dr. Yoon announces loud enough for the people in the room to hear. “Call Dr. Jeon and Dr. Wen, too,” he tells a nurse nearby, who nodded in response and set off to find the wanted individuals.

“The patient is here!” Everyone whips their head towards the entrance, the wheels of the stretcher d loudly screeching against the tiles of the emergency room. They approach the patient with so much fervor that you might be burning if it actually has its tangible form. 

Dr. Yoon blows up the bangs on his face and joins the group. Today is going to be a long day, _again_ . But all he can think of is, _‘bring it.’_

(¹Doctor Romantic Season 2 was referenced for this scenario because of my little to none knowledge about medical stuff, with the little coming out from extensive research that may not even be called ‘research.’)

Waking up on a hospital bed after undergoing some sort of surgery isn’t the most ideal way of starting the day, but after seeing a quite handsome (you’re just _shy_ to admit that he’s overflowing with prince charming aura) doctor checking on your condition, maybe it's not _that_ bad after all.

The recollection of yesterday’s accident comes like a wave hitting the shore, with the shore as your brain. You remember that the wish of having a fortune bestowed upon you didn’t come true, instead, a wooden plank fell on your humble abode as you painstakingly scan the construction site to know if everything goes according to the plan. Well, it’s obvious that it didn’t because you being injured is nowhere to be seen in the blueprint.

“E-excuse me,” you call your doctor, who finally looks at you. And, _damn_. You can just let the ground swallow you because a mortal like you seems to be not deserving of witnessing this beauty in front of you. Or maybe you’re just being exaggerated like you always do. “Was there no one else hurt in the scene?” You ask, the worry sitting on your gut overcoming the battling of your heart against your chest. 

Your doctor— _Yoon Jeonghan_ , you read on his nameplate—perks up at this. His face is painted with amusement, leaving you confused and severely conscious of your outside appearance. “There was no one besides you,” Dr. Yoon answers with a mysterious glint in his eyes.

In a beat, you exhale all of the worries that were stuck in you even while being completely oblivious of the world after surgery. “That’s a relief,” you sigh, settling in a comfortable position, failing to notice earlier how tense you’ve been. 

“You look like you’ve been favored by the universe on this one,” Dr. Yoon can’t help to comment, after seeing you so delighted with the news. 

“Of course, I am. I caused them enough worry about being injured. I wouldn’t want them to be hurt, you know. After all, they are more needed than me,” you reply, the last sentence gushing out on a whim. You weren’t supposed to say that, you figured, as your eyes widened—that thought has been buried in the deepest hell in your mind and should’ve stayed _there_.

“You sure have a serious case of low self-esteem,” Dr. Yoon points out, eyes not leaving you. “How could you worry about others when you’re here, lying down after getting stitched like Frankenstein? For Pete’s sake, worry about yourself because your comrades are surely worrying about you. They just visited earlier but you’re not awake,” he states, a shrug following after.

“Who’s Frankenstein?” you dare to utter after his wordy retort, which makes him look at you incredulously and laugh. _His laugh isn’t that bad,_ you think. _Definitely a serotonin boost._

Then a good old friend called silence comes after, like the cliché flow of some romantic story, with you finding something strange about the person in front of you. You stare at him, holding his gaze intensely, suddenly not as diffident as before.

“What?” Dr. Yoon lets out, trying out a defense mechanism of blurting something audible to hide that he’s actually flustered—an instance that rarely happens in a billion years. He's known for his unabashed attitude towards people, work, life, you name it; it’s unwonted for him to have a tinge of red on his cheeks. Especially inside a freaking hospital. 

_I must be out of my mind,_ he thinks and tries to convince himself that the lack of coffee is the one to blame. Spoiler alert: he’s just in denial that he’s actually swooned by a patient, of all people, at this very age. But it’s actually not an unfortunate idea.

“Before you lecture me about worrying after myself, maybe you can practice what you preach,” is your final response, smiling at him softly, too soft and endearing that it hurts his eyes. “You don’t look that good, doctor. You should take care of yourself before you take care of others.”

Dr. Yoon cracks up. The half-an-ounce of sleep seems to be catching up with his poor body and face. “I can’t do that, ma’am. I’m a _doctor_.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head in a questioning manner. As time unknowingly passes by, you are coming into a liking of the bizarre exchange with him. “Doctors are humans, too. It’s necessary to look after yourself.”

“It’s my first time hearing that from a patient,” Dr. Yoon admits, bemused but in a pleasant way. He tends to hear those words from someone of the same profession, not from an outsider who needs to be tended. This is certainly a first. “You’re one of a kind. Maybe not one because a lot of people are actually more talkative than you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you tell him with a chuckle.

“You should be honored that I told you such words. I’m the _oh_ so great Yoon Jeonghan after all,” Dr. Yoon orates, cockiness coming back to his veins after a bout of an unapparent flush of cheeks. You just crack a smile as a response, unable to think of a good comeback for that one. _Maybe next time,_ you think. _Next time I’ll leave you speechless, too._

“Sure, you are,” you utter after a few seconds of profound thinking.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, feeling strangely depleted of social energy for the day. Dr. Yoon acknowledges your state and lets you be, telling you some information about your condition and your discharge. After a straining moment of hush, you hear the door creak open and close, an indication you take as _‘room cleared.’_ Peeking through your half-closed lids, you confirm that he’s really gone, leaving nothing behind.

Or so you thought. 

A piece of paper is subtly, but at the same time not-subtly, poking out from a fruit basket that your workmate probably brought. You were just thinking of how the two of you will meet again, but it seems that you don’t have to wonder anymore. You pluck the paper out of its demise and recite the numbers written in a messily beautiful fashion. 

Seeing things in a different light, the whole incident might not be an unfortunate event, rather a blessing that you fervently wished to fall upon you. A blessing of romance, that is.

“So, I thought love-at-first-sight was some high school rubbish,” Dr. Jeon, who’s currently leaning against the wall as if that’s the coolest thing to do, says as Dr. Yoon slowly got out of your room.

“You startled me,” Dr. Yoon exclaims, clutching his now existing heart dramatically. “Newsflash, it’s not,” he answers. Then, he comically turns to Dr. Jeon in an inordinate realization and grabs his co-doctor’s shoulders. “Oh my god. _It’s not_.”

“You think?” Dr. Jeon deadpans. Dr. Yoon just gaped at him, mouth wide-opened, showing his curled fingers that were the evidence of the massive cringe that he was feeling caused by the odd gooey, mushy stuff in his heart. “First, close your mouth. Did you even brush your teeth?” A protest from Dr. Yoon was immediately shut down by a glare from the other doctor. “Second, I’m happy for you and your budding romance that I thought was impossible in this society of assiduous, sleep-deprived people,” Dr. Jeon states, a soft tinge of friendship in his tone.

“I’m flattered to be the subject of such endearing words, Dr. Jeon. But I honestly think that you should focus on your own _budding romance_ with Mingyu,” Dr. Yoon teases with wiggly eyebrows, which was countered by an eye roll from Dr. Jeon which probably says _‘mind your own business’._ “ What’s the third one?”

“We have an emergency patient in ten—” a glance at his wristwatch. “—no, _seven_ minutes. Get ready,” and off Dr. Jeon went, with a pert smile and a hand wave.

“You should’ve told me that first!” Dr. Yoon half-shouts and half-grunts as he adjusts his white coat as a mental preparation of what might happen in a few.

The ‘budding’ romance and taking care of himself can wait, _I’m really_ _sorry patient-that-I-forgot-the-name-of,_ Dr. Yoon thinks. And maybe someday, they can continue where they left off.

**Author's Note:**

> — ty for stopping by! it’s fun to write just for the sake of writing and i might be posting a mw fic soon! <3


End file.
